


Of Cabbages and...Import Penetration

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s05e12 Slow News Day, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-14
Updated: 2004-04-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: An episode addition.  CJ ponders a vegetable and whether or not she's actually, you know, an adult.





	Of Cabbages and...Import Penetration

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Of Cabbages and...Import Penetration**

**by:** DianeB

**Character(s):** CJ  
**Category(s):** Drabble   
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Disclaimer:** I claim no right to anything affiliated with The West Wing television show. I'm just having some fun.  
**Summary:** An episode addition. CJ ponders a vegetable and whether or not she's actually, you know, an adult.  
 **Feedback:** Always appreciated.  
**Spoiler:** "Slow News Day." C'mon, who could resist messing around with the interchange between CJ and the Argentine Attaché?  
 **Author's Note:** Personally, I didn't think Carlos Carrio was all that good-looking, but I know that anyone who thinks humans are unable to sense or respond (however inanely) to pheromones is just kidding themselves. You don't need to be gorgeous to give off pheromones; in fact, it works better if you're not. Keyboard strokes (to keep it simple) include "*" to indicate emphasized words, and "//" to indicate thoughts. Many thanks to my Mighty Editor Goddess, Brenda, and to TWW Queen, Amanda, for valuable editing assistance. One nod to NASA's Cassini mission, scheduled to hit orbit around Saturn this summer. Written February, 2004. 

Carol thought it was odd that the man answered his own phone, but dismissed it after that first hello. My God, even through the phone lines, Carol could feel the pheromones, and Carol prided herself on her sensitivity to these things. She made the appointment for noon exactly, hoping after she'd hung up, that she had remembered to give him all the details he needed to get in. 

* 

Obviously, she *had* given him the proper details, because Carol knew the instant the man walked in. Not because of anything as pedantic as looking up from her desk, but because the room became...warmer. 

"Hello. I have an appointment to see..." he consulted his notes, "Mister CJ Cregg." 

Now Carol looked up in distinct surprise. Why in the world did this man think the Press Secretary was a man? Had he not been paying attention for the past five years? Did he not watch television? Okay, Carol thought wildly, cabbages might take up a fair amount of his time, but, still, they *did* get CNN over at the Argentine Embassy, didn't they? Maybe he was just fooling with her, teasing her, but why would he do that? It's not like she had ever met him... She came around just in time to realize he was silently standing there, waiting for a response. 

Carol stood too quickly for her chair, and it shot out from under her, to bang most unprofessionally into the wall behind her. She coughed to clear her throat. "Yes, Mister Carrio, *Ms.* Cregg is expecting you," she said in her most professional voice, to make up for the chair, and also to give him a clue about CJ's gender, in case he really didn't know. "One moment please." She walked over to the doorway of CJ's office and peered in at her boss, who was busy flipping through spiral-bound reports, searching for something to tell the press. 

"The guy from the Argentine Embassy's here." 

"Well," CJ replied without looking up, "see if he has anything we can announce." 

Carol smirked. //Oh, no way, ma'am. On a slow news day like today?// They *all* needed a diversion. "You'll wanna ask him yourself." She turned back to her desk, noticing that CJ still hadn't looked up, and motioned for Mr. Carrio to go ahead in. 

This would be good. 

* 

"Miss Cregg..." 

CJ didn't spare a moment to look up, but continued to sift through reports. "This'll have to be a short meeting. I knew this wasn't like shooting fish in a barrel - not that I've ever shot fish in a barrel - but we don't have anything to announce today and I thought maybe your cabbage import penetration talks would..." And here CJ bothered to look up into a rather unremarkable face, backed by a most *remarkable* heat, and immediately lost her train of thought. "yield some...uh...cabbage." She recovered enough to spit out a more suitable word, but not before she felt an embarrassing jolt of adrenaline flood her system, making her cold on the inside and decidedly...not cold...everywhere else. "Agreement." //What the hell?// 

The Attaché didn't smile, change his posture, or do anything else to indicate he'd noticed her gaffe and was playing along with it. "There is no agreement. There's only mutual respect." 

His voice was well modulated, as smooth as good Scotch, and just as rich - and CJ found herself lost in the ozone again. But, thank God, she was still able to access a clever comeback and regain some decorum. 

"Well, that's not newsworthy, perhaps, but certainly..." 

And then, a non sequitur that had her back to Ozone Square One. "Do you like cabbage?" 

"Not so much, really." She felt the big, goofy smile on her lips before she could even begin to consider its inappropriateness. //Honest to God, am I orbiting Saturn? Please, don't let any members of the press out of their little room right now or ever again.// 

"Ah." 

At his one-syllable non-word reaction, she felt an unreasonable urge to continue, to somehow make up for sounding like an idiot. "On occasion, I see the appeal." And then, out of nowhere, a confession, accompanied by perky body language normally reserved for, well, for her bathroom mirror. "Been a while since I tried it, actually." //Holy crap! What am I, fourteen?// 

*Another* non sequitur. "You are, ah, a woman." 

Okay, was he pulling her chain, flirting with her, or honestly trying to get his cabbage import penetration talks into the news cycle? She had no idea, and wasn't entirely sure he did, either, but the verbal portion of her brain, now on autopilot, responded with what she thought was a nice, snappy, perfectly ridiculous retort. "And no news there, either, though at this point I'm willing to go with it." She chuckled awkwardly. //Where the hell's Carol?// 

Like a miracle of telepathy, she heard Carol at her door. "They're waiting in the briefing room." 

She absently thanked Carol, her attention still riveted to the man in front of her. It was time to go, thank goodness, but how long had it been? "Thank you, Mister...?" Lord, after all this, she didn't even know his name! 

He leaned in just a little, extending his hand. "Carrio. Carlos Carrio." 

She extended her hand to his, figuring he was going to shake it, grateful for this one moment when she might return to being the White House Press Secretary. Instead, he grasped it lightly and kissed the back of it, dramatically, like Zorro, and she felt sweat break out along her hairline. 

"Carrio," she repeated, mispronouncing it spectacularly, absolutely unable to get her tongue around the simple word, never mind rolling the "r's." //Who am I again? Oh yeah, I'm the one whose *job* it is to get the names correct. Really, something is dreadfully wrong with me, but why don't I care so much?// Mr. Carrio turned and exited with a smoothness that exceeded his voice by an order of magnitude. 

"Thank you," she said aloud to no one, as the room spun slightly and she fought for a decent breath, "for...whatever it was that was." She couldn't for the life of her wipe the smile from her face. 

* 

As he was leaving, Mr. Carrio turned just enough to nod a farewell to Carol, who caught the warmth of his half-smile right between the eyes. Her pheromone sensor went into overdrive, finally recognizing him for the scoundrel he was. The Argentine Attaché had been rattling them on purpose, and enjoying every minute of it. 

This thought did not necessarily bother her. 

After a moment, Carol exhaled profoundly to ground herself in the reality of her job, got to her feet, and went again to CJ's door. She stood there a beat, allowing her boss another second to flutter pleasantly in the wind before snapping her fingers to bring her back to business. "How come you wanted all that press guidance on ethanol?" 

* 

Later, after CJ had torn Gordon a new one for his "CJ Cregg Touts Her Right To Adopt" wire story, a strange gift was delivered. Toby came in just after it arrived, and laughed out loud at the raw cabbage with the little heart on top sitting on her desk next to Gail. "What's that?" 

"Oh, it's just..." She was certainly *not* going to share her little teenage lust-a-palooza with Toby, even if the cabbage had elicited such rare, genuine laughter. He'd find out soon enough, given the speed of the White House gossip mill. "Some guy at the Argentine Embassy apparently wants to make me a salad." 

* 

In hindsight, CJ would never have been so flip if she had known what Toby was about to do. Still, her entire encounter with Carlos Carrio had been just what she'd needed to boost a slow news day, and since Toby's thing had worked out well in the end, she knew she didn't need to feel bad about it. In fact, she'd already consulted the Internet for several rather intriguing recipes using cabbage. 

And she thought she might even invite Toby to join her for dinner. 

End. 


End file.
